When Pigs Fly
by MyDogAteMyPenname
Summary: In which Courfeyrac questions Enjolras's sexuality, Revolutionary Fangirls bring about chaos, one of them with her eyes on the chaste revolutionary leader, and there is a case of a MarieSuzette...WIP
1. Where Courfeyrac Asks Too Many Questions

**NOTES FROM THE AUTHORESSES: Bonjour, all you lovely fanfiction readers! Estelle, AKA Andrea, AKA "My Dog Ate My Penname" here! I'm certainly glad that you actually _clicked_ on this. I assure you, it was an excellent choice. Now, first things first- this is a piece of HUMOR. We blatantly and shamelessly inserted ourselves into this story. It also pokes fun at Enjy, romance stories involving Enjy, general Mary-Sues, fangirls, angst, and contains the strangest subplot ever. Do you have anything to add, Fayette, AKA Francesca, AKA "a little fall of rain"?**

**Why yes I do! ahem We wrote this story together, though not actually in each other's presence, and while we think the writing blends rather nicely, don't be weirded out if suddenly the writing style changes. It's just switching authoresses ) **

And with that, sit back, relax, and enjoy a tale of Enjy's woe.

Julien Enjolras kept his head down as he rushed towards the Café Musain. Yes, gentle reader, even the so-called Fearless Leader had something… or some people… to be scared of. He broke into a run, hoping beyond hope that he would not meet up with… _them_. Who is "them"? Well, they cannot be described in one sentence. In fact, they are creatures so complex, that they cannot be described in a paragraph! Ahem. Returning to our story… He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of-

"ENJY!" two piercing voices squealed from behind.

Enjolras flinched… or winced… whichever. "Good afternoon…Mademoiselles Fayette…. Estelle…." He said slowly and placidly, as if he was trapped in an insane asylum, unable to make himself turn around and face them. Yes, gentle reader! THEM!

"He's so well-mannered!" Fayette (or Revolutionary Fangirl #1) whispered, incapable of containing her excitement as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

"I _know_," Estelle (or Revolutionary Fangirl #2) whispered back. The Fangirls caught up to the disgruntled revolutionary. She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, grinning madly, as an idea formed in her head. "Julien? Or, perhaps you prefer M. Enjolras? Can we follow you to your meeting?"

Faye poked Estelle in the side. "He wasn't supposed to find out that we knew about them!"

"Oops." She shrugged her shoulders sheepishly.

Enjolras watched the two Fangirls for a moment, hatching his escape plan. The girls noted to themselves that he was muttering under his breath and stroking his chin. Each grabbed his arms and proceeded to let out an earth-shattering squeal together.

"OHMYDIEU we're touching him!"

"OHMYDIEU, 'Telle, I know!"

"He's got lovely arms, Faye."

"Ooh, very true!"

After a few unsuccessful attempts to reclaim his arms, he groaned inwardly at the thought of having to make conversation with these frivolous young women. "Ladies," he began through clenched teeth, "I really must insist that you allow me to attend my meeting."

"Oh, but we are!" Estelle assured him eagerly, and dragged him along with her and Faye.

After a few minutes of uninteresting banter between the girls, Enjolras glanced up from his feet and saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Oh! There's Cafe Musain!" Faye pointed excitedly to the building. "What are you planning today, Enjolras? Something...scandalous"? Faye and Estelle immediately burst into a fit of giggles at the mere mention of Enjolras and scandal. There were certain types of scandals they would just love to help him out with. In their fit of hysterics, the Fangirls had released Enjolras's arms. Seizing his only opportunity for escape, he bolted up the street toward Cafe Musain. "Estelle, where'd he go?"

"What? He's right...oh. Oh dear. We seem to have lost him again." Estelle looked around. "Why does this keep happening to us?"

Faye gave her an exasperated look. "It's because you keep touching him!" "I can't help it," Estelle giggled. "He's so handsome!"

"Well, yes. He is. But, well, don't you see more?" Estelle blinked. "More? There's more?" "Of course there's more! There's intelligence, and compassion, and courage, and determination, and, and PASSION!" Fayette threw her arms up for effect. "He's absolutely perfect!"

"Faye, darling, are you feeling alright?" Estelle peered at her friend. "You've never talked this way about any man before!" Suddenly, she laughed. "You're not, in love with him, are you?"

"No. Of course not," Faye snapped quickly. "Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?"

Estelle continued her giggles. "That's a relief. Because, girls like us don't fall in love. I don't think we'd know how if we tried!" She ticked off all of their various lovers on her fingers to prove her point. "I was worried I'd lost you to the side of the _good girls_. I was quite worried you'd fallen in…in _love_." She stammered. "What a problem that would cause in the plan!" No, dear readers, these were not your typical innocent Fangirls… They were a pair of rather wily Revolutionary Fangirls on a mission!

"No," Faye, the more… _promiscuous_ one, said again. "I don't love Julien." Perhaps she wouldn't know how to be in love, but Faye did know a lie when she heard one; she'd only been lying to men for most of her teenage years. And she knew that she had just lied to Estelle.

Sighing, she gathered up her pink skirts and looked warily at her perpetually wide-eyed friend. "Come on, we should catch up to him."

Enjolras sped down the street in a fury. The door to Musain was so close. He glanced behind him quickly; to be sure they weren't following, and ran smack into…

"Courfeyrac! Quick open the door! We've got to get inside!" he roared, glancing around frantically.

Courfeyrac rubbed his head. "Mon dieu! Enjolras, what the bloody hell's gotten into you?"

"They're, they're coming!" He sputtered, looking behind him.

Courfeyrac followed Enjolras's gaze, and he saw what the other man saw. A storm of turquoise and pink silk was running towards them, shouting "Enjy!"

Enjolras wore a horror stricken expression. "Do you understand now? They've been following me for two weeks already!" He made for the door. "I need to get inside. I have a lot to do and I don't have time for…"

Courfeyrac stepped in front of the door, blocking Enjolras's escape, as the two girls approached them breathlessly. Enjolras gave him a pleading look, and when that didn't work he demanded in his most commanding voice, "Jacques Courfeyrac, in the name of the Republic, I order you to open this door!"

Courfeyrac just chuckled. "This isn't one of our meetings, Enjolras. I'm not obligated to listen to you, now am I?"

Enjolras cursed Courfeyrac silently as they turned to face the Fangirls.

"Afternoon, ladies," Courfeyrac greeted them. He peered down into their faces, having a big advantage over them in height. "Mademoiselle Fayette?"

"Monsieur Courfeyrac!" Faye squealed. She had become well acquainted with Courfeyrac a few months before. _Very_ well acquainted. In fact, it was with him that she first met Enjolras. "Oh, it's simply been too long! How are you?"

Courfeyrac bent down and kissed her hand. "Infinitely better now that I've seen you, ma chèrie."

Enjolras was highly disgusted by this display, and tapped his foot impatiently, barely managing a cold, "Bonjour, Mademoiselles."

Faye blushed at Courfeyrac's words, and instantly regretted it when she saw Enjolras glance her way. Even so, she fluttered her eyelashes at Courfeyrac and kissed his cheek. She couldn't help being a coquette, it was just how she was, how she had been for most of her life.

Courfeyrac dropped Faye's hand suddenly and his mouth dropped open, very uncharacteristically as he turned to look at Faye's companion, the one with the wide eyes. "Who is this?"

'Telle, who had been watching Courfeyrac and Faye with an amused smile, looked over her shoulder to see who he was speaking to. "Um…Oh!" Her cheeks flushed embarrassedly. "Do you mean me, monsieur?" she asked stupidly, playing with the little bow on her dress.

"Your name, Mamselle?" he asked, giving her his most charming smile as he took her hand and kissed it ever so gently.

"…Guh…"

Fayette jabbed her side with a finger. "Estelle!" she hissed.

"OWWIE! What?" she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice, rubbing her side with her free hand while Courfeyrac held the other.

"Never mind, dear," Faye muttered, confused as to what was going on with her normally lively friend. This certainly wasn't 'Telle's usual understated flirting tactic. Enjolras grumbled under his breath, tapping his foot impatiently once more.

_Perhaps I should say something_, Estelle thought, letting her fellow Fangirl drag her inside Musain, following the two handsome students. _Bien. Words… Is my mouth suddenly disconnected from my brain? This must be some kind of terrible disease. I suppose I should ask that doctor-friend of theirs about this. Anyway! Returning to my original thought-- something to say…words...not…coming!_

"H-hi," she said pathetically, frenetically searching her brain for a clever topic of conversation.

"Hello, there," he replied with that same charismatic smile, watching her yank at one of the little bows on her dress. "Now, what brings you lovelies to our humble café?" he asked. "I don't suppose we've met before. Unless you were the grisette from that- no, no, it wouldn't have been you…"

Estelle looked over Courfeyrac's shoulder while he was deep in thought to see Fayette trying to convince Enjolras to allow them to attend the meeting for mere "Revolutionary Fangirl purposes." (There is a plot involved, gentle audience, we promise!)

"Please?" Faye cooed softly, skillfully batting her eyelashes as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be _good girls_." She stood on her tiptoes, leaning in even closer. "I _promise_."

"Well, _merde_," Estelle grumbled as the Fangirls kneeled by the door to the backroom, their ears pressed against it. "Of _course_ feminine charms won't work on the chaste marble statue known as Enjolras! Sacré-bleu!"

Faye rolled her eyes, as she attempted to find a comfortable position on the floor. "Oh, _please_, 'Telle. You're just bitter that your 'feminine charms' didn't work on M. Courfeyrac"

"Wh-what feminine charms? I was at a…a….a loss for words!" Estelle sputtered defensively.

"You were at a 'loss for words'…had very pink cheeks…and you were avoiding his gaze…" she analyzed, counting off the signs with her fingers. "You know what this means, right?"

Estelle scratched her head of disheveled black hair (She had been running, remember?). "Hmm. I was just thinking earlier- it _must _be some kind of ailment…" she mumbled. "I never act like this! Am I correct? Neverevereverever!" The befuddled girl sighed sadly.

Swiftly, the door swung open, and the girls fell in a heap at the feet of a bewildered Combeferre, who had wondered why there was such a rumpus outside. Ignoring Enjolras's gripes and commands to have the Fangirls stay outside, the bespectacled youth helped Estelle and Fayette to their feet.

"Merci, good sir," Estelle thanked him (loudly, over Enjolras's heated words) with a demure smile, looking at him through her eyelashes, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

(_That-a-girl!_ Fayette thought proudly, seeing her friend was back to normal.)

"Ummm, not a problem, Mademoiselles." He replied, averting his gaze.

"'Ferre!" Courfeyrac called over from the back of the room, "Why don't you let the young ladies inside?" (When Combeferre turned around, Estelle had shot a wink at her friend.)

"But… but…No girls allowed!" Enjolras thundered, putting his foot down, "…especially _Fangirls_."

Courfeyrac banged his glass of brandy down on the tabletop. "What? What do you mean _no girls allowed_?"

"I…I just…we need…but the Republic!" Enjolras lamely defended his new rule. "There's no time for women while we're trying to create a republic!"

"Oh dear." Courfeyrac furrowed his brow in concern. "Combeferre," he called towards his friend and the two girls, "why don't you take those stunning young ladies over to the corner table and order them anything they desire." He winked at Estelle. "It's on me."

"How nice to see you follow my orders," Enjolras muttered sarcastically as Courfeyrac turned back to him.

"There are more pressing issues at hand than your ridiculous orders."

"Such as?"

"Such as, why on earth would you ban women from Musain?

Enjolras crossed his arms across his chest. "What good have they ever done?"

"Julien, Julien, Julien! That is not the question at all. The real question is, what good haven't they done. _Especially_ for me." Enjolras just snorted. "Women are soft and gentle, sweet and funny, adorable and an absolute joy to…become _acquainted _with." The marble statue blinked dumbly. "Oh, you know what I mean."

Enjolras gave him a blank stare. "Excuse me?"

"You know. I'm talking about my favorite part of anything concerning women. You of all people should know-"

Enjolras cut him off quickly. "No. I really wouldn't."

Courfeyrac spit his brandy into his glass. "Mon dieu. Are you saying that you've never been with a woman before?"

Enjolras found it impossible to meet his gaze. He felt himself blushing severely. There was absolutely no reason for him to feel ashamed. If so, then why did he feel less of a man admitting he lacked participation this particular rite of passage?

"No," he said shortly, still blushing.

"Mon dieu!" Courfeyrac said again. "Julien, what am I going to do with you?" Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Enjolras, are you…_gay_?"

"WHAT?" Enjolras sprang from his chair violently, knocking it to the floor. "Jacques what the hell are you talking about? I…I…just _no_. Of course not. _Absolutely not_!" He was shouting now.

Fayette and Estelle glanced up from their tea upon hearing the commotion. Fayette sighed. She supposed this argument was over their presence at the café. She also supposed they would be leaving soon. _Damn him!_ She thought. Why couldn't he just look at her and see past his preconceived notions of her? She understood him. She wished he could understand her.

"Calm down, Julien. I was only asking. Sit back down. Now that I know you're not…well, now I am going to fix this dire problem of yours."

"How so?"

"Well, don't try to tell me you don't find one single woman attractive. I refuse to believe it. There's got to be one."

"Oh, I don't know. I have better things to think about. Honestly, Courfeyrac!"

"Come on now, just name one."

"Jacques, I really don't know…" He trailed off as his eyes moved to the opposite end of the room.

Courfeyrac chuckled as he noticed this. "Which one?"

He was caught off guard by the question and felt himself blush again. He really needed to stop being embarrassed so easily. "Well, I suppose Fayette is rather pretty."

Courfeyrac clapped his hands in delight. "Ah-ha! So you _do_ notice women."

"I never said I didn't."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I happen to know Mademoiselle Fayette very well. And since you have these feelings for her-"

"Feelings? What feelings?" Enjolras cut him off angrily. "I merely said she is very pretty."

"So now she's _very pretty_?"

Enjolras muttered a string of curses under his breath. "Well, yes, I suppose."

"Our chaste leader, notice a woman? Surely you jest!" Courfeyrac mocked him with a smirk on his face.

"I have already informed you, Jacques, that I am quite capable of recognizing a beautiful girl when I see one. Must you continue with-"

"Beautiful? So you do think Mademoiselle is beautiful! You will be much better off, you know, if you just admit those feelings to me." He sipped his brandy casually, leaning back in his chair. "Don't make me force it out of you."

Enjolras laid his head upon the table, sulking and cursing himself for falling into Courfeyrac's trap. He gritted his teeth and blushed scarlet. "Alright. Fine. You win."

"I knew you'd see it my way." Courfeyrac propped his feet up on the table. "Now. When did you meet her?"

"She was with you, _of course_. When _you_ felt the need to bring her to _my _home one day, God knows why."

"Indeed, I remember that! You must admit, it was adorable the way she poked around in your books and pamphlets."

Enjolras scowled. "Adorable? No. More like deplorable. About a week after that, she and her friend, that… that Mademoiselle Estelle started showing up everywhere I went, talking about Revolutionary Fangirl nonsense. I don't even know what that means!"

Prying the information out of him was more difficult than Courfeyrac originally thought. Exasperated, he said shortly, "When did you notice?"

"I don't know. I suppose it was the time when she was reading and didn't notice me and crashed right into me. She fell right on top of me and her curls all fell into my face and, she was so close I could have kissed her, and, well. Yes there you have it. The girl is beautiful, so what? She's also quite annoying."

"There is hope for you yet! So you admit you wanted to kiss her. Which means, no matter how much you deny it my friend, you have feelings for her. And here's what we're going to do about it…"

"We? There is no 'we.' There is no plan! We're not doing anything!"

"Of course _we're_ not. But you are. I can't let you live the rest of your life not having been with a woman. It would rest too heavily on my conscience. Hell, at this point, I'd be happy if you kissed one."

He was a bit curious, Enjolras admitted to himself. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Fayette. He had wanted to that one time, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Suppose she rejected him? Suppose she didn't and wanted to marry him? Then she would spend the rest of her life following him to meetings and there wouldn't be any way to stop her! And yet at the same time, he had felt _different_ when she was on top of him. He had taken enough science classes to know what was going on with him, and he was ashamed it had ever happened. Still, suppose he didn't survive his fight for freedom. He didn't want to die having missed out on what Courfeyrac claimed was the greatest pleasure of life. And Fayette _was_ very pretty. He sighed.

"What must I do?"

"Woo her, of course!"

(_See_, dear readers? We promised you a plot! Huzzah! The plot, she is moving!)

"'Woo'?" Enjolras spat. "I will do no such thing! I have better things to do than waste my time on _wooing_. Look at the time! A half an hour into our meeting and we've yet to discuss things of _importance_."

"Well, fine, Enjolras. But, if you _do_ happen to play on the _other _side of the field, it's perfectly fine with me."

"I beg your par-"

"We're all here for you, mon ami!" Courfeyrac smiled.

"But, I'm not-"

"I solemnly promise that I will support you if you happen to be-"

"**COURFEYRAC, I AM NOT GAY!"**


	2. Where Somthing Horrid Happens to Estelle

An awkward silence fell on the room, followed by a timid clearing of the throat from Jehan, then a squeak from Pontmercy.

"Ah!" Courfeyrac cried out, before whispering, "Well, either way, that leaves the delightfully bashful Estelle for me!"

Positively fuming and barely keeping his composure, Enjolras called for everyone's attention for the nth time that day. Just as he started to speak, his eyes wandered over to Faye once more. She was looking on in amusement, laughing, while Estelle was discussing her supposed "sickness" with Joly.

"Mmhmm, I see," Joly muttered quietly, tapping his chin thoughtfully as 'Telle said a few things about a dry mouth and tight throat. "This is very serious, Mlle. Estelle, very serious indeed."

"Come now!" a very bored Courfeyrac interrupted. "You, my dear Mademoiselle, are just as healthy as I!"

Joly coughed loudly at that statement and said something under his breath as he turned his attention to Enjolras.

Blatantly disregarding Joly's suggestive coughing; Courfeyrac continued giving Estelle his Casanova grin and frequently reaching out to brush some of her messy hair out of her face or to touch her shoulder or hand. This caused the poor girl's knees to weaken, throat to tighten, and brain to stop functioning properly. ("Blast!" she cursed as she accidentally spilled some tea onto her turquoise dress.)

He hid a smile and politely offered her his clean handkerchief as she and Fayette fussed over how they were going to eliminate the tea stain.

"What a wonderfully productive meeting, Julien!" Faye said with a flirtatious wink, patting his cheek as she and Estelle exited the back room, arm in arm. "We shall be seeing more of you, I hope?"

Enjolras sharply sucked in his breath, his face burning as he watched the Fangirls walk away. "Adieu," he said quietly, fully knowing that she could not hear him.

"You know, mon ami, you _could_ speak with Joly and L'aigle about your little… _predicament_," Courfeyrac said as he leaned against the door frame. "I have an inkling that those two are, well, to put it nicely-"

"Courfeyrac!" he boomed. "This conversation is _OVER_." (If Enjolras gritted his teeth just a tiny bit harder, they would have disintegrated completely.)

He wasn't affected at all by his friend's thundering. In fact, he continued to offer some "words of wisdom." "'Over'? Enjolras, Enjolras, Enjolras, our tête-à-tête has scarcely begun! My lady-friend, Sophie- you know, that pretty baker's daughter?- She has a twin brother who is just the most-"

"I will hear no more of this ridiculous-"

"-What was his name? Oh, yes, Sebastien-Emile. Strange man, he was. He insisted that we all called him by his full first name. Isn't that just a mouthful? 'Sebastien-Emile…'"

"Are you finished?" he asked slowly, forcing down any urges to strangulate, punch, or maim Courfeyrac in any way possible.

"I believe so! Oh, by the way, I've invited the girls to come with us to the theatre tonight! It seems they both have a love for the stage themselves!"

Enjolras paused from gathering all his papers, pamphlets and books. "Is that so?" he tried to say casually.

"Indeed! Well, I shall see you tonight, then? Dear friend, you must tear yourself away from all this! It's simply a few hours with your friends and a pair of very pretty Mademoiselles." With his piece said, Courfeyrac exited the room, leaving Enjolras to contemplate on them.

Oh, yes, lovely readers, Enjolras would follow Courfeyrac's advice… with some extra help from…... Grantaire?

"Mlle. Estelle! My dear, I believe you left something at Musain!" Courfeyrac called, chasing after the two Fangirls.

"Oh, my luck today is simply ghastly!" Estelle grumbled to Fayette as she turned around… only to see the young student holding a single rose for her. "Oh! Goodness gracious, M. Courfeyrac! It is beautiful," she breathed. "But, I don't believe it is mine!" Estelle replied rather stupidly and obliviously. (Faye rolled her eyes, still smiling.)

"Please, my darling Estelle, just Courfeyrac. Formalities with my peers make me a trifle uncomfortable. And, this," he added dramatically, "this is a beautiful rose for a beautiful girl." He took her hand, kissed it, and then placed the flower inside.

"…..Guh….."

Fayette chuckled, gently nudging her friend this time. "'Telle…."

"Um…" Estelle forced herself to tear her eyes from that same bow she was playing with.

"Fayette, would you mind if I borrowed your dear friend?" Courfeyrac asked rather innocently, too innocently in fact. Noticing this, Faye responded with a stern Look before finally releasing her friend. "I wholly promise to behave myself and be a good boy," he added, holding his arm out to the vocally-impaired girl.

This, gentle readers, was where Monsieur Jacques de Courfeyrac would continue his attempts to romance the very oblivious Mademoiselle Estelle Modiste. Now, one may ask- why should he persist on chasing a girl who hardly returned his affections? Well, to be quite honest, Courfeyrac didn't know the answer either.

"S-so, Courfeyrac, may I ask why you needed to, um, 'borrow' me?" she asked as he led her to a conveniently-placed park around the corner, briefly making a face at the term, "borrow." (_I never realized there was such a pretty park around here!_ Estelle thought to herself.)

Astounded at the sudden change of scenery, Courfeyrac didn't let on and, instead, smiled down at Estelle the oblivious. Why was he taking such a horribly long time with this? If he had been acting normally, he would have had the girl wrapped around his finger by now. In response to her question, the Casanova leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Estelle could have kissed him back, wrapped her arms around his neck, skipped through the flowers gleefully, or fainted, even! But, no! Estelle (who was, without a doubt oblivious) sneezed violently. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" she sniffled, searching for a handkerchief, even though she didn't need one.

"Bless you, darling!" He chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips. "I certainly hope you are not allergic to me, Mademoiselle!"

"Silly, I cannot be allergic to a human being!" As soon as the words left her mouth, Estelle cursed herself for sounding stupid yet again.

"You are an amusing one, Estelle Modiste!"

"Oh, well, I suppose I-" Her mouth moved, but not a sound was made. The poor, oblivious girl grabbed her throat, her wide eyes bigger than ever. Estelle dropped to her knees, gesturing wildly, the fear apparent in her eyes.

"Estelle?" he asked, the worry apparent in his voice as he knelt beside her, gently placing hand on her shoulder. "Estelle, what is it? What's wrong?"

The girl froze, her long black hair covering her face. After a minute, she lifted her head, flipping her hair. As she did so, the hair went from disheveled and lusterless to tousled and with natural copper highlights. Her eyes went from innocent and brown to eyes that were all-knowing and changed colors with her mood. Her skin glowed, her smile was radiant. Even her tea stained turquoise dress was cleaned and slightly fancier than moments before. "Estelle?" she asked him, her smooth voice like the music of beautifully harmonizing angels and songbirds. "I am not Estelle! I am Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage, the distant cousin of your friend Bousset!" She smiled, revealing her pearly-whites.

Courfeyrac stared in awe and fear, scrambling to stand up. What was this creature before him? Surely this sort of perfection did not exist! He reached out to touch her silky, sun-kissed skin, finally helping the gorgeous girl to her dainty feet. His eyes went from her color-changing eyes, down her flawlessly curved neck, and down her slender waist, down her voluptuous hips.

"Take me in your arms! Make sweet, passionate love to me!" Estelle- no, Zepherine-Suzette…whatever- cried out, throwing her willowy arms around his neck, pressing her tiny body to his, purring softly in his ear. "I am yours, my love."

He could have whisked her away to his flat and obeyed each of her commands.

But, where would our subplot be, dear readers?

Instead, Courfeyrac pulled out of her grip and screamed (rather uncharacteristically), running for his precious life.


	3. Where R is an Expert Piano Player

"Ooooooooh, R, I toooooootally oonderstand why you lurve this stuff so much!" Enjolras slurred, falling off his chair for the seventh time that evening.

Grantaire blinked slowly, suppressing his laughter. He didn't have the heart to inform his idol that he only had barely a sip of absinthe.

Wheell, I suhpose we gotsta go to tat… th-that… thing?"

"The theatre," the surprisingly not-so-drunk drunkard grumbled.

"Yeaaaaah. The…the opera Poopolaire."

Grantaire could barely keep a straight face as he helped Enjolras off the floor. "Yes. Yes Julien, the Opera Populaire." _Note to self-Never let Julien near a bottle of liquor ever again_.

Enjolras leaned heavily on his uncharacteristically sober friend as they staggered out the door of Musain and into the street. He giggled like a schoolgirl at the sight of a couple standing on a street corner kissing, then nearly collapsed in a heap at Grantaire's feet.

Sighing, Grantaire steadied his friend, and then hailed a carriage to take them the rest of the way to the opera. _Dammit,_ he grumbled under his breath, _this is going to cost me a week's worth of wine._

Courfeyrac stood in the lobby of the Populaire, anxiously tapping his foot on the marble floor. He was at a loss to explain Estelle's behavior that afternoon, and more than that, he was at a loss to explain his own. Run away? What was he anyway? Pontmercy?

The door swung open and he was greeted with the sight of Fayette and Estelle, clad in fancier versions of their day dresses, rushing inside to meet him.

"Monsieur Courfeyrac!" Faye called, waving as they met him near the grand staircase.

"Bon soir, mademoiselles." Courfeyrac noted with relief that Estelle's eyes were downcast and she was blushing madly. Thankfully, she was back to herself. He grabbed her hand and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

"…GUH…"

Faye sighed in exasperation before elbowing her friend in her sore spot.

"I-I mean…well…goodeveningtoyoutoomonsieur," Estelle exclaimed quickly.

"Oh, my dear mademoiselle, your charms never cease to amaze me."

Faye glanced around the crowded lobby, frowning. "And where is Monsieur Enjolras this evening?"

"And why ever should you care where or where not dearest Julien is?" Courfeyrac teased her with a smug smile; happy his plan would be successful after all.

Faye cocked her head of brown curls to the side. "I-I-I…I'm simply asking. I happen to be quite fond of Monsieur Julien. That's all."

Estelle giggled at Faye's discomfort, and her friend shot her an icy look.

"Just as fond as you were of me?" Courfeyrac shot back. "If that is fond, mademoiselle, I would enjoy knowing how it feels to be loved by you."

Faye leaned in close to Courfeyrac and whispered in his ear. "You are an insufferable pig, monsieur."

He shrugged. "That's half my charm. And you don't deny what I accuse you of."

"No, I don't."

"Well, you know, he needs a woman. At least once in his life. Why not you? Why not now? He harbors some sort of strange feelings for you. All you have to do is let him seduce you!"

"My head is pounding. What exactly did you give me?" Enjolras rubbed his head as the carriage approached the doors of the Populaire.

"It was just a sip. And as I recall, you're the one who came to _me_ begging for some help with your young lady."

"And how exactly does this help?" Enjolras stepped down onto the street with Grantaire following close behind.

"Trust me," Grantaire said as they went through the doors, "You'll be able to speak your mind."

Fayette's face brightened as soon as Enjolras stepped into the room. She nodded as Courfeyrac gestured to her. Yes, she would let him seduce her. Seduce her, have his way with her, and then fall madly and passionately in love with her! What more could a Fangirl ask for?

"Julien!" She called out to him, running over. "And Monsieur Gran…WHOA. What is that awful smell?"

"Nothing darling, absolutely nothing." Though he was slurring considerably less, Enjolras was still quite drunk. After all, dear readers, where is the fun in a sober Enjy?

_R was right_, Enjolras mused. _I can tell her anything. I like the way this absinthe works!_

Enjolras put an arm around Faye's waist and pulled her close. "My goodness, you certainly do look stunning tonight. Just stunning."

Enjolras reeked of alcohol, no doubt provided by Grantaire. No! This wasn't what was supposed to happen! He wasn't supposed to bed her because he was drunk. He was supposed to come to her of his own accord! He was supposed to fall in love with her!

Faye pushed away from him, pushing his chin up with a finger. "Why thank you. Now, shall we see the opera, or are we just going to stand around here all night?" She turned on her heel and headed for the door to the theatre. _Hah! He wants to traipse in here drunk and suddenly decide to notice me? Fine. But I will not succumb so easily. Not to that flowing blond hair or those piercing blue eyes or those strong arms…No! I'll make him wait. Make him suffer until he's sober._ A smug smile spread across Faye's face as she turned around and beckoned Enjolras with her finger. Like a puppy, he followed, and she allowed him to take her arm. Suddenly she had his heart on a string and she knew it.

"Theenk uf-a meeee-a, theenk uf-a me-a fooooooondly when we've said-a gooooooooooodbye. Rrrrrrremember meee-a once in a while-a, pleese-a

proooooooomise meeeee-a youuuuuuuuuu'll trrrrrry…"

Fayette, Enjolras, Estelle, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire stared up in disbelief at the prima donna onstage before them, in mid-aria.

Faye pointed a gloved finger toward the stage. "…ah…"

Estelle raised her opera glasses to her eyes for a better look. "…um…"

Enjolras's mouth dropped open in a most uncharacteristic manner. "…erm…"

Grantaire looked down over the railing of the mezzanine. "She looks familiar…"

Courfeyrac found words. "Grantaire, she looks like YOU!"

Faye snatched Telle's glasses and looked for herself. "Oh dear, you're right. Those eyes, that nose, oh! And those cheekbones! Why, if I didn't know any better I would say she WAS you."

"Now that's an ugly woman for ya." Enjolras twirled his finger around one of Faye's curls. "Not at all like you dear." _Oh happy day! I can still speak my mind! _Faye brushed his hand away and reclaimed her hair.

Courfeyrac thumbed through his program, then burst out laughing. "You won't believe this, but says here her name is," here he paused for effect, "Rlotta Granticelli."

Faye and Estelle burst out laughing, much to the chagrin of Grantaire.

"I don't know what you find so amusing." _Remind me again why I'm helping Enjolras to woo her?_

"Oh, oh nothing dear, it's just that you are so-"

"Youuuuuuu areeeeee soooooo beauuuuutifullllll!" Enjolras, on his knees, sang out to Faye. He stood up and pulled her up with him.

"Julien!" she hissed. "You're making a fool of yourself-"

"KISS ME!"

The orchestra screeched to a stop.

_Well_, Courfeyrac mused, _that wasn't exactly the idea I was going for, but whatever works. That leaves me to my young lady._

"Therrrrre willl-a neverrrrrrr beeeeeee aaaaaa daaaaaay-a wheeeeeeen I won't thiiiiiiiiink offfffff-a-" Rlotta looked around angrily, finally aware that the orchestra had stopped playing.

"What-a you doing, you stupido? Where-a my musica?" She glared down at the conductor, who pointed up to the mezzanine warily.

Rlotta marched to the end of the stage, pointing menacingly.

"YOU! What-a you think you doing? Thees ees MY show, not yours! 'ow-a dare you come een 'ere and…"

Rlotta gasped as the man she was chastising finally became visible. Someone who was tall and blonde and very drunk. Yes, dear readers, it was none other than our beloved Enjolras!

"mmm, so sorry about that. Y'see I'm just singing to my lady over here and-"

Rlotta quickly adjusted her hat as she curtsied a bit. "Oh. Eet's no problema, signore. Forgive-a me, perfavore. If I 'ad-a known you were so belissimo…You will-a join me after the show-a?"

Faye gripped the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white. No one was going to take Enjolras away from her. Not when things were finally beginning to look up!

"Ugly slut," she muttered softly under her breath. However, not softly enough to escape the sharp ears of Estelle.

"It's okay, you know. The worst that will happen is that she'll buy him everything and fund his revolution and then he'll forget all about you." Estelle made a face. "Oh dear, that's not very good, is it?"

"No, Telle. It's not."

Rlotta pranced smugly back to the center of the stage. "'e love me. Love me, love me, love me."

Dinner, as one can assume, was a strange affair.

A now almost completely sober (and very confused) Enjolras was seated between a possessive Fayette and an oblivious and lovesick Rlotta Granticelli. Faye giggled, fluttered, flounced, and flirted with all her might, while Rlotta giggled, preened, and spoke in an almost indecipherable accent as the two battled for the affections of the chaste leader.

Why was dearest Julien so confused, you ask? The answer is simple. He had almost no recollection of what went on at the opera, so Rlotta's presence was boggling his mind, not to mention her attentions. He didn't have the slightest inkling of who she was, so he did what he was best at. He ignored her. It usually worked on Grantaire. His other confusion was due to Fayette. Suddenly, she wanted him. Suddenly, he wanted her. And he wasn't quite sure how to get her from the restaurant to his flat.

While Enjolras was pondering his fate, Courfeyrac was entertaining Estelle.

"I daresay that was the most entertaining opera I have had the privilege of seeing. Did you enjoy it, mademoiselle?"

Estelle looked up from the floor. "I…um…yes, I suppose."

"Oh my dear, I find your bashfulness to be ever so charming. Would you mind terribly if I gave you a little surprise?"

She blinked at him. "Surprise?"

Courfeyrac leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I think you'll rather enjoy it…" Then his lips were on hers.

"Oh!" Estelle flailed her arms around wildly, until suddenly, there was a flash of light and then…

"Oh, Jacques! Hold me closer! Kiss me harder!" Courfeyrac obeyed without question. She backed up into the table, knocked off the remaining wine bottles (much to the dismay of Grantaire) and flung herself onto the table, crying out, "LET'S MAKE LOVE RIGHT NOW!"

Courfeyrac pulled back. "What?" Only then did he really take a good look at her. Her hair was flawless, her skin was soft, her eyes changed color, and her voice was sultry and alluring. She was no longer Estelle. No, she was Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage, the distant cousin of Bousett!

"What are you waiting for, my love?" she purred. "I do believe my body likes you VERY MUCH!"

Over on Enjolras's side of the table, the situation was getting a bit out of hand.

"Julien, this restaurant is becoming tiresome. Why don't we leave?" She gave him a suggestive smile. "I'd _love_ to see your home."

He snapped his head around and looked at her, his face blushing madly. "I…you…we…us?" He found himself suddenly quite unable to form coherent sentences.

Faye sensed his growing discomfort and decided she would not succumb to him just yet. "Why, monsieur, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Rlotta watched this flirtation with growing rage. The nerve of that little brat! Who did she think she was, trying to steal her one true love? This Signore…oh well, no matter that she did not know his name. She was Rlotta Granticelli, pride of the Opera Populaire and the leading soprano in all of Europe! He would never turn her down. It was time to show this pretty little mademoiselle just who she was up against.

"Oh Signore.." she sang.

Enjolras reluctantly turned from Faye to look at her. "Yes?"

Rlotta sucked in a sharp breath, and then plunged her head down to meet Enjolras's. The blond leader was so shocked that he didn't even protest, and he would have ended up locking lips with a crazy Italian diva if it wasn't for Faye's quick reflexes.

"What the hell are you doing?" Faye was out of her chair and charging at Rlotta before she could think better of it.

"What-a you mean? What-a you theenk I doing?"

Faye decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead she took a flying leap forward, grabbed a handful of Rlotta's hair, and tugged it with all her strength.

"Ow-a ow-a ow-a! Give-a me back my 'air you ragazza matta!"

"No! Not until you leave him alone and get out of my sight." She tugged harder. "Forever!"

Enjolras wriggled in between the struggling women and grabbed Fayette around the waist, holding her back from Rlotta, but not before she succeeded in tearing out a rather large chunk of the opera singer's hair.

"Hah!" She waved it around triumphantly as Rlotta charged at her again.

In a flash of turquoise light, Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage was at her side, and using her powers of telepathy, pinned the diva against the wall.

"What-a you do theeeese for? Let-a me go! Andiamo!"

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage shook her head and laughed. "Not while you are trying to steal away the true love of my dearest friend. Us Revolutionary Fangirls MUST stick together as well!" she cried passionately. (Enjolras grumbled under his breath, saying something about being the one who was supposed to make the passionate speeches...)

"Her? You think-a he love her?" Rlotta made a rather unladylike sound. "Eef I were-a man, I would-a spit. He does not-a love her. He love-a ME! Because I can-a SEENG!"

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage laughed her musical laugh again. "As can I. You didn't think you were the only one, did you? Tell, me what is your range?"

Rlotta snorted. "I can-a 'it any note you give-a me."

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage snapped her fingers, and a grand piano appeared. Instantly, Grantaire was drawn to it, and he began to play a beautiful melody.

Courfeyrac stared at him. "I didn't know you could play."

Grantaire shrugged as his fingers danced on the keys. "Neither did I."

"Now, play the highest note there is." Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage instructed him. He obeyed. "Very good. Now,Signora Granticelli, if you would be so kind as to sing it?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Enjolras looked at Faye, who was watching with a fascinated expression. He cleared his throat as he noticed he was still holding her waist. "Excuse me mademoiselle," he said quickly.

She smiled up at him. "Quite alright monsieur."

She stood up to walk over to Estelle, erm, Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage, and Enjolras shot Courfeyrac a pleading look. He motioned something to him. As Faye turned to walk, Enjolras grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap, much to both of their surprise.

"Allow me the please of your company, mamselle?"

Faye saw the almost bashful, pleading look in his eyes and thought that perhaps she had made him wait long enough. "As you wish," she whispered, before settling comfortably in his lap and leaning against his chest.

Enjolras blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected her to get _that_ close. He had a lot to learn. Absently, he ran a hand through her curls as they watched the action unfold.

"You know, it's really a shame. That was only the _second_ highest note on the piano."

Rlotta sneered. "And-a youu can-a do betterrr? Tell-a me, what is-a _yourrr_ range?"

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage sighed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I can hit a high Z of course." And she promptly sang the note in a clear, high voice without any accompaniment whatsoever because, as we know, pianos can't hit a high Z.

Everyone in the restaurant burst into applause. Everyone that is, except Rlotta. She smoothed her skirts and said in her most diva-like voice. "I challenge-a you to a seeng off." Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage snapped her fingers and a large, colorful ball dropped from the ceiling, much to the confusion of everyone. A pair of dark glasses appeared on Grantaire, and he began to play the piano.

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

"ZEEEEEEEE!"

"AHHHHHHHHHH"

"ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEE"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"ZZZZEEEEEEZZZZZZEEEEEEEEZZZZZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage took a deep breath, then,

"ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Rlotta had been defeated and everyone knew it. But Italians happen to be of a feisty nature, and she was not going to give up so easily. She charged at Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage with all her might. The beauty was taken aback, and tried to duck for cover from the angry diva's blows, for she was a delicate creature, and a young lady at that. Fighting just wasn't proper, you see.

"Unhand that lady!" Courfeyrac cried out, and in one foul swoop, lifted Rlotta up and threw her out the door and into the street. The patrons burst into applause. "And don't come back!"

Zepherine-Suzette Moira-Adriane du Soleil-Fromage snapped her fingers, and her disheveled appearance was once again perfection.

"My hero!" she cried out, running into Courfeyrac's waiting arms and kissing him passionately.

"Estelle, uh, Zepherine, er, Suzette, um, whatever your name is," Courfeyrac began in between kisses.

"Mmhmm?" She batted her inch-long eyelashes, her eyes flashing different colors.

"I'm ready to take you up on your offer."

"Oh, Jacques, I thought you'd never…OH MY DIEU! Wha-what-what's going on? What's happening?" Estelle was back! She looked down. "Courfeyrac!" she screeched. "Get your hands _away_ from there!"

"Estelle?"

"Yes, of course it's me! Who else were you expecting?"

"I…well you see…there was this light…and then you, well you weren't you and…oh what the hell." And he leaned back down and kissed her again. It was just the thing she needed to cure her of her shyness! She giggled nervously and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, that was quite the show." Enjolras commented to Fayette.

"Mhmm."

"I suppose she was a bit fond of me, then?"

"Mhmm." Faye was getting bored with this mindless conversation. There were two things she wanted. To either stay here in Julien's arms, or for him to whisk her off to his flat and have his way with her. To be perfectly honest, she preferred the latter.

"Julien," she purred, "Dinner's been lovely, dear. But I think it's about time for dessert. What do you say, love?"

Enjolras gulped. "S-sure. I'll call the waitress over. I hear the chocolate cake is quite famous…"

Faye put a finger to his lips with a smile. "Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking something a bit more like _this_." She kissed his neck lightly, then lifted her head. "You see?" He nodded quickly. "There's a good boy. Now what do you say we get going? This dress is getting awfully uncomfortable…"

Enjolras gulped again. How could something as wonderful as a beautiful girl make him feel _just_ like Pontmercy?

"Alright. I'll get Courfeyrac and R."

"I'll be waiting."

"COURFEYRAC!" Enjolras bellowed.

"What?" Courfeyrac scowled, pulling away from Estelle. But judging from the look on his friend's face, he thought better of his annoyance. "Telle darling, would you excuse me for a moment?" Estelle nodded and skipped away happily.

"What is it mon ami?"

"Fayette. She-she-she wants to _you know_."

Courfeyrac's face lit up. "FAYETTE WANTS TO SLEEP WITH YOU?" He grabbed Enjolras in an awkward hug as he nodded.

"Keep your voice down, would you? I won't have them think her a whore."

"Oh how sweet. Oh Enjolras, you are going to become a man tonight!"

"Yes, yes alright. But what should I say to her? What am I supposed to DO?"

"Trust me, you'll figure it out fast. And if not, she _definitely_ knows what she's doing."

Enjolras felt a fluttering in his stomach that was quickly spreading downward. He suddenly felt that if he was alone in his flat with Faye soon, he might explode.

"Okay. Let's just go."


	4. Where We Mention Sex A lot

"Ah, young love," Courfeyrac sighed as he and 'Telle stood outside and watched Enjolras's and Fayette's carriage depart.

"Or, young lust," the girl quipped, smirking rather uncharacteristically.

Surprised at this change, Courfeyrac peered at Estelle, a quizzical look on his face. "Zepherine-Suzette?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm Estelle, silly." She smiled, running a hand through her hair, in an attempt to make it look a bit neater.

"So, you're not Zepherine? You're Estelle?"

The Fangirl chuckled, shaking her head. "I believe we've established this, Courfeyrac."

Courfeyrac grabbed by the waist and pulled her close, kissing her long and hard. "Still Estelle?" he asked.

"Mmhmm, I think so," she murmured, her eyes still closed, her hands hanging at her sides awkwardly. "Why on earth do you keep asking if I'm me?" Estelle wanted to know.

Courfeyrac studied her again- her eyes were still brown, her hair was (adorably) unkempt, and her voice was quiet and rather innocent (and not at all sultry). It was indeed Estelle! "Just wondering, that's all, mademoiselle," he replied cheerily, his lips descending on hers once more. "You're perfect, just the way you are, you know," Courfeyrac added.

Estelle laughed. "Please. You're just saying that, Courfeyrac. I may be a bit daft, but I do know some things."

"Um, well…"

A smile crossed her features again. "I'm joking. Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!" She placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him lightly.

"The night is young!" he said, taking her hand. "Shall we go for a walk?"

"We shall!"

Don't look so disappointed yet, gentle readers! Our friend, Monsieur de Courfeyrac, has other plans, and a simple walk with a pretty girl isn't a part of them!

Meanwhile, Enjolras was absolutely nervous as he sat in the carriage with Faye, an awkward silence settling upon them. _What to say?_ He thought frantically. (Little did he know- conversation wasn't a priority in Fayette's mind!) It would have been easier for him to think if that blasted maddening feeling in the pit of his stomach went away! _I've gone mad,_ he confirmed. _I've honestly gone mad._

He looked over at his companion. She looked so lovely and she smelled delightful. He looked away immediately, for every time he looked at her, that feeling grew stronger. "Is that perfume, or is that you?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Fayette replied, her eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Do you have a name or can I call you mine?" Enjolras looked around wildly. Surely he couldn't be saying this!

She stared at him for a moment, then threw her head back and started laughing.

"What on earth is hap…? Congratulations! You've been voted 'Most Beautiful Girl in This Room' and the grand prize is a night with me!"

"Are you drunk, Julien?" she asked, suppressing her laughter.

"I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by you," was the reply, as Enjolras's eyes grew wide. His brain was definitely NOT controlling his mouth, some other… _presence_ was!

"Well, what are we going to do about that?" Faye smiled at him.

Enjolras shrugged as he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from saying anything else humiliating.

Faye slid over until she was pressed right up against him. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Enjolras gulped yet again and shifted in his seat, attempting to hide his, ahem, excitement from Faye.

Leaving Enjolras and his- er, less than sophisticated pickup lines for a moment, readers, let us return to Estelle and Courfeyrac in their innocent walk in the park!

"'S been an interesting day, don't you think?" Estelle mused, giggling quietly.

Courfeyrac laughed along with her. "That's quite the understatement of the year, my dear Mademoiselle!" He nonchalantly let go of her hand and slipped and arm around her waist.

"Oh!" was all Estelle could manage as that familiar blush crept over her face.

"Something wrong?" he asked innocently, a Casanova smile on his face.

"Uh… no, no, quite alright, Courfeyrac!" Estelle faltered, unable to form a full sentence in her mind. After a moment, she said, "You have the strangest effect on me, you know that?"

Courfeyrac put on a smug smile. "Well, I've been told that I have a 'strange' effect on many."

Estelle made a face, pulling away from him. "No, really. Up until today, I was able to form full sentences around men who showed an interest in me…. Or who I was interested in," She paused, putting her fists on her hips. "And, up until today, I didn't have random flashes where I could not remember what happened in the last few minutes!" Estelle furrowed her brow, studying him, as if his face held the answers. (And again, dear readers, Estelle was oblivious.)

He blinked, taken aback. He had never heard Estelle speak that much all day. "I… well, I really don't _know_, Estelle."

"…Oh," was all she could say.

He grinned rakishly and slipped one arm around her waist, using his free hand to cup her chin and tilt her head upwards. "You're an odd one, you know that?" he said, leaning in and kissing her ardently.

Estelle's knees went weak and she had to grab his arms to stay upright. "Wh-what are your intentions, Courfeyrac?" she asked breathlessly. "I th-thought we were just walking through th-the park!"

"You are truly, delectably naïve, my dear Estelle, and, I wish to-"

"Wish to –what?" Estelle interrupted, blinking at him.

That dashing smile was still on his face as he replied, "Oh, well, you _know_."

Estelle gasped. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, if you're implying what I think you're implying, well, let me tell you something, sir! I am not the sort of girl that does that sort of thing with a man I just met I usually wait un-"

He shut her up with another kiss, more enthusiastic this time.

"Guh," said Estelle, losing all control over her legs and nearly slipping out of his embrace until he caught her again. (Come to think of it, dear readers, they must have looked pretty darn ridiculous, doing all that in the middle of the street…) Much to his surprise, that gazing-into-the-distance look on her face was replaced by a smirk to match his own. "I suppose you'd like to know what I was capable of doing before _you _came along, oui?" Without waiting for his answer, she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with such zeal that _he_ nearly fainted.

"Estelle?" he murmured, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. (Estelle smirked again. It seemed, to her, that the tables have been turned!) "It's you, r-right?"

"'Course it's me! Duh," she said, glad she _finally_ was back to normal. Not shy and withdrawn at all! (Of course, she was still a bit on the dumb side, but it is best if we really _don't _mention that…)

"Mmhmm… M-my flat, p-please?" he stammered, suddenly desperate to _be with_ this girl. He suddenly felt a rather common sensation in his lower regions and felt as if he was going to detonate if he didn't do anything about it.

"Well, Courfeyrac, I…" Here, she paused dramatically, enjoying having him hanging onto her every word. "… would love to."

With that said, he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and started sprinting towards his flat, which happened to be conveniently placed on the next street.

"Where?" he cried, setting her down next to him as he kicked his apartment door open. "Here, on the couch? On the floor? On the table? By the wall, if you like that kind of thing? What about in the bathtub?" the student asked her frantically.

Estelle let out one of her quiet giggles. "Bed is perfectly fine with me, Courfeyrac."

"Oh, good," Courfeyrac replied hastily, pushing her into the bedroom. "I'll just go lock the door and you go do whatever you girls do before, well… anyway…" He trailed off, wandering away. Estelle sneezed. "Bless you!" he called over his shoulder.

Courfeyrac fumbled with his cravat while unbuttoning his vest and kicking off his shoes, and slammed the door shut and darted back to the door. He hadn't felt _this_ desperate to be with a young woman…ever. Sure, he liked them all, but something was a bit… _different_. He couldn't understand it himself. "My dear Estelle, are you ready?" No response. "Estelle!" he sang through the door while doing a little jig because he couldn't keep his feet still. Suddenly worried, he opened the door to see the window wide open and Estelle GONE!

Courfeyrac nearly broke out into tears until he found a note tacked to the bed:

"_My Dearest, Darling-est Jacques,_

_I'm afraid that my gloomy, undisclosed past has caught up with me and I am currently in the clutches of an evil gamine, with unconventional beauty, though incomparable to **mine**, who claims to be the only 'Marie-Suzette' in all of France... whatever that means, anyway. I'd fight my way out, but, as you know, I am a delicate creature and a young lady at that. It is simply unbecoming of me, don't you think?_

_I love you more than certain police inspectors love chasing bread-thieves,_

_Zepherine-Suzette…etc, etc"_

Courfeyrac choked back a sob. She _loved_ him?

He snapped back to attention and threw on all his clothes. (In his haste, however, he didn't button up his shirt, giving him the ideal Casanova look.) Courfeyrac nearly flew out of the apartment, running into a Conveniently-Placed Gamin. "Hey! You! Conveniently-Placed Gamin! Take me to the lair of the evil gamine with unconventional beauty, although it is incomparable to my love's…."

"Oh, The 'Lovely Ponine'?" The gamin shrugged and then grinned broadly, revealing a mouth with a few missing teeth. "I'll do it for a few sous!"

He shoved some coins into the gamin's grubby little hands. "Take me now!" he cried dramatically.

Er… leaving that scene for a moment, dear readers, we return to the awkward scene going on between Enjolras and Fayette seduction of Enjolras.

The carriage came to a stop and Faye lifted her head, a smile crossing her features as Enjolras helped her out of the carriage. He put an arm around her waist and led her inside his flat.

"Julien, this is lovely!" Faye commented as she looked around, taking off her coat and tossing it aside.

"Erm, thank you," Enjolras replied awkwardly as he picked up her discarded coat.

Faye plopped down onto his couch, and without warning wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

"I think I've come up with a solution to your little problem in the carriage," she murmured in his ear.

Enjolras sucked in a sharp breath. _It's now or never, I suppose_. "Believe it or not mademoiselle, I think we have the same idea." And he bent down and kissed her.

"Apparently," Faye managed between kisses, "great minds think alike."

After a time, Faye sat up, pushing her disheveled curls out of her face as she caught her breath. She turned to look at Enjolras, who was tugging at his tie as he tried to regulate his breathing. Giggling, she went over and sat on his lap.

"Now this can't be healthy, love." She reached up, undid the tie, and threw it off to the side. "Much better," she declared as she kissed his neck, making her way upwards until she met his lips.

Enjolras was visibly nervous as he kissed her, but Faye noticed with satisfaction that he was learning fast. "Are you sure you've never done this before?" she asked with a laugh.

He laughed as well, rolling and pinning her on the couch underneath him. "That is only because I have a very good teacher."

Just as Enjolras was congratulating himself on a job well done, Faye took him by surprise again, reaching up and divesting him of his vest, cravat and shirt in one swift motion. He stared down at his bare chest, then at Faye, who was smiling at him innocently. He tried to say something, but no sound came out. He pulled away from Faye slightly, and her face clouded.

"What's wrong?"

"I just…" _Wait a minute!_ thought Enjolras. _What am I doing? I must be crazy._

"Nothing's wrong," he answered, smiling down at her.

"Good. Because I'm getting rather tired of this dress and-"

Enjolras kissed her to cut her off as his hands traveled to her back and unlaced her dress, dropping it uselessly to the ground. Faye gasped at his touch before meeting it with one of her own. She hadn't expected him to do that, and yet she was extremely glad he did.

When she was finally able to wrench her mouth away from his, he stood up, pulling her with him. In one swift movement, he lifted her up into his arms, kicked open the bedroom door and…

"SHIT!" he cursed loudly as he tripped over a pair of boots lying in the middle of the floor. Faye shrieked as she was dropped onto the bed, and Enjolras grunted as he landed on the floor. He rubbed his behind gingerly as Faye erupted into a fit of giggles. This was turning out to be an interesting night…

"Come here," Faye patted the spot on the bed next to her, "We'll make that little pain go away."

"Wait a minute. I've got to clean up this room. I er, don't want to trip over anything else."

"Honestly Julien! We're about to make love and you're cleaning your _room_?" She rolled her eyes and flopped back on his bed, staying true to her dramatic nature. She watched him kick the boots under the bed, pick up clothes from the floor and put them in the armoire, and straightened a pile of papers on books on his desk. "So...bored..." She sighed in irritation as he went into his living room, returning with the clothes they had discarded earlier, draping her dress on his desk chair and folding his clothes neatly on the desk.

When he was thoroughly satisfied with the room's cleanliness, he turned back to Faye. Both to his dismay and relief, he found she had dozed off. He watched her for a moment, looking so innocent as she slept. What a change to her usual demeanor during the day. He brushed some curls off her face before moving to blow out the candle and preparing to spend the night on the couch.

"Don't think you can get away from me so easily, monsieur!" Faye said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "We've not yet accomplished what we set out to do." She pulled him onto the bed with her, rolling on top of him and resuming their kiss. It did not take long to remove all the barriers of clothing separating them, and Fayette couldn't wait any longer. She pulled away from his mouth, ignoring his protesting whimper.

"Oh God, Julien," she whispered in his ear. "Stop torturing me. Make love to me!" She met his lips with hers again, positioning herself underneath him.

Enjolras broke the kiss, and stared at the wall, the sheets, the ceiling, anywhere but at her.

"What's the matter? Do you not want me? Is that it? You don't want to do this?"

He looked at her in mild horror. "No, no Fayette believe me. That's not it at all."

"Then I don't see the problem, love. I want you and you want me. Why not take advantage of it?"

"I, erm, it's just that…well you see I don't…I mean I never…"

Faye was looking at him intently, awaiting his answer. He turned extremely red and looked away yet again. Muttering something incoherent under her breath, Faye pushed Enjolras off of her and rolled over, her back to him.

"Well, I suppose I'll just go to sleep then, to avoid you telling me how unappealing you find me. I can take a hint, dear."

Enjolras gulped. "No, wait. It isn't you. You're…you're…" he paused, not usually a man to give out compliments, "you're beautiful. Perfect. It's me."

She laughed then, rolling to face him. "And what, pray tell, could possibly be wrong with the great god Apollo?"

"I'venevermadelovebefore!" Enjolras burst out loudly.

Fayette laughed. "Is that all? Well, in that case, it's safe to say, this will be a time you will never forget."

Without another word, Enjolras pulled Faye to him. And that was that. The bridge was crossed, the bud had burst into bloom, the flames consumed them, and they passed the point of no return. (whoops, wrong musical/novel!)

The deed was done. Julien Enjolras was a man.

End of story.

You can review now.

Or just, you know... close out of this window...

JUST KIDDING!

Let us become a little bit anticlimactic (hahaha, oh, the double entendre!) for a moment, readers, and return to Courfeyrac's wild goose chase for an unconventionally beautiful gamine and the mysteriously beautiful Zepherine-Suzette.

_Woe is me, a good-looking girl without her student_! Zepherine-Suzette thought...well, woefully, as she sat in the _other_ backroom of Café Musain, gagged and bound to a chair. The gag had been a part of Eponine's gamine ensemble, sweaty and infested with bacteria. Thankfully, Zepherine-Suzette had the ability to change the taste, look, and smell of the gag and that she had enough powers of telepathy to write that letter to her beloved.

Courfeyrac bust into the room, looking very much like a Casanova, crying, "I am here to save my lady!"

"My hero!" Zepherine-Suzette tried to say through her gag.

With a flourish, he pulled out a knife conveniently placed in his boot and cut all her constraints. "My hero!" the beauty called out again, pushing him onto the chair and rewarding him with the most passionate, R-rated kiss he had ever received. Then, she pulled back and screamed.

"What? What's wrong?" he whimpered, staring at the girl in his lap. It was then that he realized that this was no longer the sexy and vivacious Zepherine-Suzette, but the pretty and (usually) reserved Estelle. "Er... Estelle, I can explain!"

She blinked dumbly at him. "Why am I dressed so provocatively?"

He stopped staring at her low-cut dress (he had realized that she preferred the high collar dresses) and met her wide, frightened eyes. "Er... Forget these wide-eyed fears! I'm here, no one can harm you! My—"

Then, the door burst open, and a gorgeous gamine laughed a musical laugh, "I wouldn't be so sure of that!"

Will Courfeyrac and Estelle get out of there alive! Will Courfeyrac _finally_ tell Estelle about her little problem? Will Enjolras regret losing his...er... innocence? Will Faye stop being a _bad _girl? Will there be a Mary-Sue showdown to the death? Will there be more random Phantom of the Opera references? Will we stop being annoying with these questions? Will you, the reader, review!


	5. Where the Story is Revived After Hiatus

It seems as if, dear readers, our wonderful authoresses took a surprisingly, sickeningly long hiatus, but that is mostly Andrea's (otherwise known as Estelle, in this fic universe) fault. Feel free to chuck various Marie-Suzette related items at her for she _momentarily_ left the Les Miserables fandom. (Yes, honestly, go hate on her, and then quickly praise her for returning; else, she will not continue writing.)

So, indeed- where did we leave off last? Oh, yes:

_Then, the door burst open, and a gorgeous gamine laughed a musical laugh, "I wouldn't be so sure of that!"_

Estelle whimpered and buried her face (adorably) into Courfeyrac's shirt, and for a moment he smiled smugly, until that damned unconventionally beautiful gamine stomped her foot. Delicately. "There isn't enough room for the both of us in this town," she snarled. Delicately.

The little Revolutionary Fangirl looked up timidly. "B-but, isn't Paris a rather big-"

"SILENCE!" Eponine bellowed delicately, causing them both to cringe.

Eponine glared at the pair, fisted hands on her emaciated hips. _No_, readers, in her mind, this couldn't be possible! She was supposed to be dangerously skinny but healthy, dirty and flea-ridden but attractive, ugly and toothless, yet strikingly beautiful. She was _not_ going to let some little fangirl in a blue dress get in the way of her plans for world domination!

"It's turquoise!" blurted out Estelle, somewhat angrily.

Could it be, dear readers, that Miss Estelle Modiste can read minds?

Well, actually, no, sorry, that last bit was merely for the sake of … something. Don't ask us.

But, nevertheless, as the two females continued conversing awkwardly (mostly delicate screaming from the unconventional-looking street urchin and some whimpering from the charming, nutty Fangirl), Courfeyrac contemplated on his current situation: Estelle was perched on his lap and not protesting, which was wonderful, however this crazy girl in rags was keeping them from consummating their, erm, relationship, which was not wonderful in the slightest. He was distracted by the low collar of Estelle's dress and seemed content to gaze at her bosom for a good minute or so before remembering that their lives could very well be in danger. (One could never underestimate the power of the unconventionally beautiful and delicate gamine.)

"I shall save you!" the handsome student cried out, jumping to his feet and accidentally dropping the poor girl on the ground. She whimpered again as he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her to her feet.

"Oh?" Eponine questioned, quirking a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, tapping her foot. "And how will you go about this, pretty boy? By smiling me to death?"

Of course, dear readers, flattery was Courfeyrac's second biggest weakness, the first being women. He let the compliment go to his head for a few seconds before snapping back to attention, picking up the dainty Estelle and throwing her over his shoulder in one swift motion. "Look!" he cried dramatically once more, pointing over Eponine's delicate and slender shoulder at the window behind. "It's Pontmercy!"

Eponine's large hazel-green-purple-blue eyes widened and she whirled around excitedly, climbing on top of a table to see her beloved Marius Pontmercy, pushing the window open. Acting quickly, Courfeyrac used Estelle to push the tragically beautiful (or beautifully tragic?) gamine out the window, shutting it immediately.

"CURSES!" she hollered, banging frail, bandaged hands on the glass, "WINDOWS! MY ONLY WEAKNESS! I'LL GET YOU, MY PRETTY, AND YOUR LITTLE FRENCHBOY TOO!"

Oh, no, readers, this amazingly wonderful story ain't - ahem_- isn't_ over yet! It would be dreadful, don't you think, that we would make you wait an entire year for a chapter and it would end like this?

Courfeyrac smiled triumphantly to himself and toddled out of Café Musain, his favorite Revolutionary Fangirl in tow, ignoring the bizarre stares from his friends. Yes, all in a day's work for Monsieur Jacques (de) Courfeyrac. Just as he was about to give himself a pat on the back, Estelle cleared her throat and wiggled her legs around as a reminder that she was still being carried. "Ah, yes, my dear, fancy that!" he said, placing her on the sidewalk, dipping her, and awarding her with the fieriest kiss he could manage.

And, thank goodness he was holding onto her because Estelle's knobby knees grew weak and she flailed her arms around frantically, eyes wide open. "Mmmmrrrrraaacmmmm!" she mumbled into that kiss.

Courfeyrac set her upright…once again… and took her arm. "Oui?"

"Courfeyrac!" she repeated, grabbing him by the shoulders and babbling nonsensical things in French: "_Je ne sais pas que je devrais faire! Elle me tuera! Elle me tuera! Sauvez-moi! Sauvez-moi! Où est Fayette ? Je veux ma mamaaaaaaan_!"

Courfeyrac blinked in confusion, tilting his head at her quizzically before slipping his arms around her and kissing her perpetually unkempt hair. "Ah, my dear Estelle, this is a frivolous fanfic! We do not speak _real_ French, of course," he told her slowly, shaking his head as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, of course," Estelle said dumbly, pursing her lips and translating everything in her pretty little head. "_I don't know what I should do! She will kill me! She will kill me! Save me! Save me! Where is Fayette? I want my mommyyyyyyy!" _She paused. "Better?"

"Yes, very much. But, not to worry, Estelle, we shall go and find Enjolras- you know, he is the proverbial man with the plan- and he should be able to help us figure a way out of this nasty little predicament."

(One authoress in particular would very much like to apologize for the short and quite horrendous chapter after a year of hiatus. Perhaps her fellow authoress could amend this with another, better chapter?)

And so, the pair headed off, hand in hand, to ask for the assistance of the revolutionary leader.


End file.
